by C. L. Stone
“You’re not fucking washing her hair.”
“Fuck you. I’m already done.” He snapped the faucets off and stepped toward North, blocking me as I stood up fully.
I trembled, and my hair dripped around my bare shoulders. Not now! I didn’t want any more fighting.
“What are you doing barging in?” Gabriel yelled.
“I thought it was you in here, and I came in to grab a razor. And now you’ve got Sang naked and you’re fucking with her.”
“I washed her god damn hair,” Gabriel said. “And now I’m about to cut it.”
“She can wash her own fucking hair.”
“She let me in!” Gabriel snapped. He jabbed a finger back toward my face while staring down North. “Do you think for one minute I’d do anything to her? Have you lost your god damn mind? I didn’t force my way in.”
North’s jaw set and he glared back. “Just go.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes and he turned back to me. “Get dressed and meet me in the garage. Don’t take too long.” He opened the closet to grab another towel and handed it to me. “Wrap your hair in that so you don’t drip everywhere, but don’t dry it out.”
I clutched the extra towel to my body. I didn’t trust the towel I was wearing to hang on if I lifted my arms. I was also scared to say anything or move in fear they’d start fighting again. How could Kota be serious to think arguing meant they cared?
North started sniffing the air. He stepped over to me, pressing his nose to my head. He jerked his head back. “What the fuck is wrong with her head?”
“It’s the shampoo,” I whispered, holding the extra towel up close to my mouth to partially hide my face.
“Gabe,” North barked. His eyes met mine and held firmly. “Change the formula. It smells like shit.”
“It’s not there to make her smell pretty.”
“I don’t care. It stinks. Change it.” He smirked and winked at me. “Sang can’t smell like a dead rat.”
“God damn shit,” Gabriel grumbled, marching into Kota’s room and down the stairs. “Gabriel, don’t wash her hair. Gabriel, change the motherfucking formula. Gabriel, cut off your own ear and eat it.” There was more but he’d wandered off into the house and it was lost.
I rattled when I realized I was standing naked in a towel, alone with North, also naked in a towel. His was hanging off of his hips lower, and I saw more of the line of hair below his belly button, and the start of the angle of his hip bones. I focused on the wall.
North’s fingers found my chin, lifting. “Don’t let him walk over you,” he said. “If you’re uncomfortable, tell him to back off. If he doesn’t listen, come find me.”
I nodded. Was this the same North that was yelling a minute ago? His eyes were softer now, his touch gentle.
He stepped back. “Get some clothes on. I’ll wait,” he said. He closed the door behind himself.
I hurriedly put on my underwear and a pair of jean shorts with the bottom hem made to look like cut strips. Half of the shorts were bleached out at the thighs and covered in hot pink dye. I dropped a form fitting, black t-shirt over my head. I put the bracelet on my wrist and wrapped the extra towel around my hair, twisting it up on my head to stop from dripping.
When my heart wriggled back down from my throat to my chest, I opened the door, wondering why there was a lock. Did it even work?
North was leaning against the frame. He turned, his eyes falling on my clothes. His lips parted and his palm brushed at the side of his neck. “That’s a... that looks really good on you.”
My cheeks flushed. I squeezed the fabric of the towel at my head. “Gabriel picked it out.”
“He knows his shit.” A smirk touched his lips. “Don’t tell him I said that.”
I shared a quiet smile with him. Black was his favorite color, right? Maybe he liked it when I wore that color. I wanted to remember that. It felt like he was pleased and I wanted to do that again. I side stepped away from the bathroom. “Sorry if I took too long.”
He waved his hand in the air. “Go let that bastard cut your hair, will you?” He shut the door behind himself.
In the garage, Silas was sitting in a metal folding chair. Gabriel hovered over his head with a pair of electric clippers. Max was at Silas’ feet, rolling over his toes. When I stepped barefoot down the steps, Max hopped up and met me, sniffing at my knees.
“I’ll get you in a minute, Trouble,” Gabriel mumbled, a black comb dangling from the corner of his pressed lips.
“Okay,” I said, squatting to rub Max on the head before stepping around him to cross in front of Silas. I wanted to watch Gabriel cut hair.
Silas had a towel wrapped around his shoulders, wearing jeans and a white tank shirt that made his strong arms look more massive. Silas’s eyes lit up when I came into view. “Nice shorts.”
“Do you like the pink?” I asked, pulling back my head and holding out a leg so I could look down at the material on my own body.
“I like the blue with the pink,” Silas said, pointing to the top half of the shorts where the colors blended together. “They’re a good match.”
“He likes dark blue,” Gabriel said as he made his way around to the front of Silas, bending over slightly around Silas’ knees. He pointed the end of the clippers at Silas’ nose. “Okay now for the shitty side burns you’ve let grow too far on your face.”
Silas’ fingers smoothed over the hair in front of his ears. “Leave it midway like it is,” he said.
“It’s too much,” Gabriel said. “I gave it a try. It’s not working.”
“Sang likes it.” Silas peered around at me. “Don’t you?”
I didn’t recall seeing him with shorter sideburns. He’d always looked the same to me, so I didn’t know how to respond. I did like how Gabriel had trimmed the top of his hair a little shorter. It looked like smooth fur on his head. I wanted to thread my fingers through it as it looked soft. “Yeah,” I said, wanting to please Silas. “Let him keep it.”
“Nu uh,” Gabriel said. “They’re coming off. They need to be shorter.”
“Aw,” I pouted. “Please?”
Gabriel turned on me, pointing the clippers in my direction. “Nope, stop that. I want that lip gone.”
Silas appeared in my point of view. He made his own pout behind Gabriel’s back and pointed to his lips and then to me.
It was difficult not to crack a smile at Silas’s pout and at the conspiracy he was intending, but I puckered my lower lip out more.
Gabriel scoffed. “Suck that lip back in, Sang. I mean it.”
I tilted my head down, casting my eyes to his feet as if defeated, but left my lip out. I wasn’t sure if it was working like Silas thought it would.
“Trouble, I’m gonna count to three, and if that god damn lip isn’t pulled back in, I swear...”
“Don’t be such a meanie,” I said, glancing up with my head still tilted.
Gabriel’s eyes slitted at me. “Trouble...”
“Meanie,” I countered. I twisted the pout. Without my intending, it quivered as I sucked in a breath.
“Shit... fuck,” Gabriel clutched his tools to his chest, stepping away from Silas. The comb dropped from his mouth, rattling to the ground. “Trouble, don’t do that to me,” he begged. He stepped closer. Since his hands were full, he used his wrists to push my cheeks at my face. His eyes were stressed, his mouth drawn. “Don’t do it anymore. God, please, no, please. You can’t do that to me.”
“You said you would cut them off,” I said, with difficulty with him squishing my cheeks.
“I won’t. I won’t touch it. Don’t look at me like that. He can keep it. As long as you want it.”
I stopped the pout, making a half smile against the squishing. “Are you sure?” I asked with enthusiasm, brightening up again quickly.
Gabriel’s eyes focused on my face with an unsteady relief. Silas caught my eye. He held up a thumb, mouthing good job, and grinning. I grinned back at him without thinking and Gabriel
caught it, whipping his head around just as Silas was lowering his hand and smoothing out his face.
“You motherfucker. That’s it. You’re done.” Gabriel stepped back and ripped the towel from Silas’ shoulders. “Walk around with uneven sideburns for all I care.”
Silas laughed, standing up, and brushing his fingers around his shoulders to sweep away lost bits of hair. “Totally worth it.”
“Thank you, Meanie,” I said, trying to sound thrilled with his decision. I was pleased with the nickname I’d discovered.
Gabriel’s mouth fell. “No, not that...” He pointed the clippers at my face. “Don’t you dare.”
“It’s only fitting,” Silas said. “You call her Trouble.”
“She is Trouble,” Gabriel groaned. “And you know it.”
“Nope, she’s aggele mou.”
“A devil’s angel, maybe.” Gabriel smirked. He snapped his fingers at me. “Alright, now you.” He pointed to the chair.
I tiptoed over to the chair, perching carefully. I was worried he would give me a horrible haircut. He’d only done boys’ hair before, right? Would mine be cut short? Or would I end up looking like Luke with his longish blond hair hanging around his shoulders?
Silas backed off, sitting on the ground cross-legged, putting his hands behind him to lean back. It comforted me that he was there and might run interference in case Gabriel tried to buzz my hair short. I smiled pleasantly at Silas and he beamed.
Gabriel put aside the clippers on top of his blue duffle bag and out of the way of Max sniffing around our legs. Gabriel put the scissors in his back pocket. He took my towel from my shoulders and readjusted it to cover my body and started combing out my hair. He smoothed out the strands, feeling them between his fingers. “Feels better,” he said. “Don’t use the stuff you were using at home, okay? Wait for me to bring you a new batch.”
Silas started making faces at me. My shoulders shook as I giggled.
“Stop it,” Gabriel commanded. “You make her giggle when I’m cutting her hair, I’m likely to fuck up.”
“Don’t fuck up her hair,” Silas said.
Gabriel stepped in front of me and blocked my view of Silas. Gabriel angled his head down to me. “You’re too short,” he said. He swept a finger across my cheek as he combed the hair close to my face. “I should take you home with me.”
“We don’t have time for that,” Kota’s voice floated out to us from beyond where I could see without turning my head. Max greeted him with a yip, leaping to meet him.
“I need her higher,” Gabriel said. “It won’t look right if I try to do it like this.”
“Stand up for a second, Sang,” Kota said, his footsteps moving closer.
I stood up, holding the towel in place around my shoulders. Kota was wearing Levi jeans and a hunter green polo. His brown hair was smoothed back, still slightly damp. His eyes swept over me, a smile catching on his lips. He nudged his glasses up by the bridge and sat on the chair and putting his knees together.
He patted at his lap. “Come sit here,” he commanded.
“I can’t move around you,” Gabriel said.
“She can sit facing me and then sit facing away as you need,” he said. “Unless you want to wait.”
Gabriel grumbled, shifting on his feet as if considering the options. “Fine.”
Kota planted his hands on my hips and I sat on his knees, facing Kota first. I sat closer to the edge of his knees so Gabriel didn’t have to lean around Kota’s legs. My palms met with Kota’s chest to steady myself. My face felt hot. It was an awkward predicament. It was different from sitting in their laps in any other direction, because from anywhere else I could look at other things. Now it felt like I was forced to look at Kota. His eyes were always so questioning, so invasive me. Not for the first time, I felt he could see every little secret buried inside me.
Gabriel combed the back of my head and started snipping the scissors. Comb, snip. Comb, snip.
“Is he making spikes in my hair?” I asked Kota.
Kota laughed, his friendly voice echoing in the garage. His palms fell on my thighs just above my knees to rest. “Did you want spikes?”
“No spikes,” Silas said.
“I’m not doing spikes,” Gabriel mumbled. “Not today at least.”
“I didn’t know you cut girls’ hair,” Silas said.
Gabriel shuffled around to the side. Comb, snip. “Sang’s my first.”
My eyes widened at Kota. “Really?”
Kota grinned. “He’s kidding.”
“Like hell I am,” Gabriel said. “What, you think I’ve got dummy girls in my closet at home to practice on?”
“What about all those girls you woo or break hearts of or what not?” I said, recalling his poem and his singing and all the times he talked about things he knew about girls.
“Mergh,” Gabriel said. “Shut up or I’ll leave you with half a haircut.”
I rolled my eyes, but pressed my lips together. I didn’t want to bug him anymore. We’d been picking on him a lot that morning and he still looked like he was about to fall over from exhaustion.
Gabriel was measuring out my hair just off my shoulder when the side door opened. Erica stepped out, wearing shorts now, and a faded brown t-shirt. She padded out into the garage. The air electrified around me. Silas half coughed. Kota stiffened in the chair at this. Gabriel combed my hair more than he snipped. Silent warning system?
Victor followed behind her, wearing designer jeans, and a short sleeve button up white shirt. Victor’s eyes fell on us. His eyes blazed at me in a way that was confusing. I wanted to tilt my head at him to ask silently what he was thinking but I forced my head to keep still, worried Gabriel might mess up. Victor roughed fingers through his wavy hair and rubbed at the back of his head.
Erica’s eyes fell curiously on me in Kota’s lap. “How’s it going?”
Kota didn’t flinch, didn’t move his hands from my knees. “So far, so good,” he said.
“She’s still too short,” Gabriel complained.
“I know you can do it,” Kota said. “You can’t stop now.”
Erica moved to her car at the other side of the garage, leaning against it and folding her arms over her chest to watch. “Do we need a stool?”
“No,” Silas and Gabriel said at the same time. Victor remained quiet but his eyes ignited and flared.
Erica’s head tilted, confusion slipping into her eyes. I knew why the boys refused a stool, but now I knew Erica most likely didn’t know anything about what was happening with me. They didn’t tell her.
“Or pillows for her to sit on?” she asked. “Phone books?”
“She’ll be fine,” Kota said. His legs raised up and dropped out from under me, causing me to bounce.
I gasped, gripping at his legs, half grinning and mouthing a small ouch.
“Hey, hey,” Gabriel said. “I’m gonna cut her ear if you do that.”
Erica’s eyes flickered back and forth between my face and her son’s. Gabriel continued to measure and cut but she didn’t seem as interested in this. I watched her from behind locks of hair in my face. Her lips twitched. She was eager to ask something or say something but I thought maybe she wasn’t sure how to start. No one else was talking, either. Kota was intently watching Gabriel work. I stiffened, feeling the weight of something floating in the air, left unspoken. I wasn’t sure how to move or behave.
“Alright,” Gabriel said. He nudged my arm. “Turn around so I can do the front.”
I slipped back off of Kota’s knees, turning around. Again I was facing Silas. Erica was out of view now. Kota’s hands felt for my hips again and he pulled me back until I was perched on his knees. In an effort to keep myself stable, I put my hands behind myself on his legs. Kota kept his hands at my waist to steady me.
Gabriel started combing hair in front of my face, closing off view of nearly everything.
“What are you all going to do today?” Erica asked, finally breaking the lull.
“North and I are going to do some work at the diner,” Silas said.
“Oh,” Erica’s tone lifted, but it lingered in a peculiar way. This wasn’t who she was hoping would answer. “Is it almost done?”
“A couple more weeks,” Silas said, seeming oblivious to the inflection from Erica. “We’re trying to finish it before football games start.”
“That’ll keep you busy,” Erica said. “But football sounds fun.” Pause. Kota’s fingers tensed against my hips, gripping more than just holding me. “Are you going to take Sang to the football games, Dakota? It’d make a nice date.”
There it was. It was what Erica was waiting to hint at the entire time. I couldn’t see her face, but her voice tipped higher at the end of her last sentence. Expectation.
Kota’s leg shifted underneath me. “I didn’t know she liked football.”
What did that mean? He would have asked me if he thought I liked it? Did he want to? My mind blazed through a thousand different possibilities. Dating? I’m just trying to get through my sophomore year with my new strange group of friends and a mother insistent on punishments they told me weren’t normal. When in the world did I have time to even date anyone? When did they? Jessica had been right, we were always busy.
“You didn’t ask her. Sang, do you want Kota to take you to the football games?”
More inflection. I felt a pressure from everyone in the room. What was I supposed to say? If I said no, did it mean I didn’t like Kota? If I said yes, did it mean we’d be going on a date? What did that mean to everyone else? I couldn’t see anyone to try to confirm how I was supposed to answer.
Gabriel swiped at my hair with his comb, removing a lock from my eyes. His crystal blue eyes stared down at me and he inclined his head a little.
“Yes,” I said quickly to recover for the moment I had paused. If Gabriel was telling me to answer positively, I would. “I’d like to.” It wasn’t a dishonest answer. I’d never been to a football game. It was Kota’s hesitation and unease behind me that had me stumped.
“There,” Erica said. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? You should ask girls about date ideas before you assume.”